The Nightmare
by The Literator
Summary: Written to see if the author could pull off a decent fight. Very violent, but detail has been spared. Nightmare from Soul Calibur series cleans up on a gang of bandits.


The Nightmare

He stood in the middle of the bandits, his great sword held with the hilt grasped over one shoulder. His name was Siegfried.

They were doing it wrong, Siegfried thought. A good bandit didn't let the quarry know it was coming. A good bandit attacked without warning, and certainly didn't taunt and threaten the victim.

But they were probably nervous. Siegfried was not a tall man--only five and a half feet--but he was broad in the shoulders and chest, he had a bizarre long-hilted zweihander sword longer than he was tall…and he had the Arm.

His right arm was transformed into a monstrosity. The skin had changed into a hardened brownish shell, which was better than any armor. His hand was huge, and his fingers had merged together until he had only two and a thumb, and then they had grown, and grown, and grown, until he was left with claws that added a foot to the length of his arm. The transformation had also claimed his right side, from the base of his neck to the top of his hip. The hardened brown tissue even had most of that side of his torso. He would have been a handsome man, and he looked even better with the golden right eye, but the arm was a major turn-off for almost any woman.

"Are you listening to me, demon?"

Siegfried came out of his musings. "Wha…? Sorry, I wasn't listening. You weren't interesting."

The talker, who looked to be the leader, sneered. "Fool. We'll kill you. There's nine of us. You can't beat all of us. And I might fancy that sword for my collection."

Siegfried tilted his head, making his waist-length cascade of golden hair shift. "Why haven't you attacked? Why did you let me know you were coming?"

The men were working up the nerve, he knew. Or they were being cautious. Most other people would have been fair game, but a broad-shouldered man with a huge zweihander held in a monstrous hand caused worry.

"Look, let's get this over with, " Siegfried said. "You don't give your customers a chance to respond. You don't _talk _to them. And you don't let them _move like this pull the sword up like this and then swing it like this so they cut one of your men in half like this_."

He swung the dripping blade around, grasping the long hilt with both hands, and held it parallel to the ground, down low. Any moment now…

The bandits stared at the surprised expression on their comrade's face. He blinked, and then his eyes glazed over. Then one of the bandits behind Siegfried raised his sword and darted forward. And on Siegfried's right shoulder, something swiveled, adjusted for the light, and focused…

The man was surprised when the long-haired man released the sword with one hand, and stepped back, and swung his arm around, two curving spikes coming around…

He felt a burst of pain, and looking down to see two holes punched in his breastplate. Time slowed down for him. He felt himself begin to fall over with glacial slowness. He seemed to fall for minutes, but the ground never came up to hit him. Never came up…

The bandits unfroze then, and organized themselves. One came at him on either side, from in front of him. Siegfried gripped the sword, and swung it _around_…

The last six inches of the blade sheared through the first man's chest, severing ribs, tearing lungs, and nipping the heart. The other had time to leap back, and darted in behind the huge blade, thinking he had the blond man.

But the lone fighter had swung the blade around, turned it, and thrust without a break in motion. And that was all the man knew…

Siegfried straightened up and kicked the man off the blade. More than a third of them down in not even ten seconds. Not bad—but they weren't very good. Then the eye on his back swiveled, and focused, and he _knew_ that two men were behind him, and he had one in front of him, and there was another on the left. The leader and another man were hanging back.

But there was no time to think about positions. The one in front came on, and so did the two behind him. Siegfried passed his sword to his left hand, and turned and swung that way. The two that had been behind him had to pull up short to keep from getting gutted by the sword, and without pausing, Siegfried grasped the hilt with both hands and spun, bringing the sword up in an arc.

The intended target was lucky. He quickstepped the right way, but Siegfried could have caught him easily--but the two behind him were rushing him. Siegfried changed the sword's direction in mid-swing, and swung it at arm's length in a great arc, leaning back to skillfully counter-balance the sword's weight.

The first man coming in behind him hadn't expected someone to whirl like that. The sharp, heavy blade sheared through his arm, and into his chest and snagged. Siegfried sidestepped the second man's thrust, and brought his great arm around in a punch. The man's head snapped back. His neck did something similar. Staring blankly behind him, he fell over.

The golden-haired fighter yanked the blade out of the chest of the first man. Then he felt a jolt on his arm as an ear-splitting crack caused slight hearing loss to everybody present. He glanced, to see the man he'd forgotten about staring at the split in his axe blade. Hah. It would have been a smart move, if the arm had any sort of softness to it. Without thinking further, Siegfried kicked out at groin height. The would-be axman bent over, in his own private universe of pain.

It all happened in much, much less than a minute, from the moment the first man had died.

Siegfried spun to face the man who'd been so adroit at dodging. The leader and the last man had joined him. The leader drew a rapier, while his lackeys had a broadsword and a mace. They spread out. Siegfried's mind worked furiously. Swordsman on the left, leader in the middle, mace on the right. Damn. The rapier meant the leader relied on speed and footwork, and the mace could have a lot more effect on his arm than that ax, and his left side was normal human flesh. _Damn!_

He gritted his teeth. This would be _tough…_

And, in his mind, something woke up. It didn't need to think. It wanted only to kill. And it was _good_ at killing. It never showed mercy, because it didn't understand the concept.

Siegfried tried to fight it, and set himself. But then the full force of the Nightmare claimed him, and part of him watched as the Nightmare rushed the leader, cross-slashed, and spun around to slash again. The man stepped out of the way both times, and came in behind the blade, rapier held ready to thrust.

But the Nightmare did not fight fair. Its foot snapped out, the toe of its steel-capped boot catching the man in the stomach. And when he doubled over, the Nightmare swung the sword _up_ and _over_ and cleaved him nearly in two. The Nightmare spun, and stepped back to let the second man's mace whistle by while he smoothly shifted the sword to his left hand. And the huge arm shot out with one claw extended, and stabbed into the man's chest, the narrow point of the three-inch-thick digit poking into the man's heart.

The Nightmare wheeled and faced the swordsman. He considered his chances against this, this _nemesis_ in front of him, and ran for it.

But the Nightmare wanted blood. It switched the sword to its stronger arm, and then reared back to sling it. The huge, wide blade whirled around and around in the air, its flying spin stopping when its edge bit into the man's side and its weight bore him to the ground.

The Nightmare was beginning to recede. It walked forward, bent over the man, and jerked the sword out. The man gasped, and tried to scream, but the scream cut off almost as soon as it started.

Siegfried looked around to survey the carnage. A groan drew his attention.

Oh, yes…

_The Nightmare came back…_

The man curled over on himself heard footsteps coming closer. A boot appeared in the edge of his vision.

_The Nightmare readied itself…_

He wondered vaguely what was happening, but the liquid haze of pain in his groin prevented excessive thought.

_The Nightmare swung…_

The man felt a searing pain in his neck, as the pain in his groin _instantly_ stopped. It was an improvement. He felt himself fell, and wondered about that. He'd been lying on the ground. How could he fall? He tried to take a breath, but found he couldn't…odd. In a vague, dreamy haze, he saw the blackness coming in. He didn't mind. All he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep…

_The Nightmare ended…for now._


End file.
